DC Prompt 1
by thebeastinsideusall
Summary: Prompts for Batboys. Prompt 1. I think you forget that your clothes are more expensive then my tiny apartment. Cross posted on Archive. Damian Wayne/OFC.


I think you forget that your clothes are more expensive then my tiny apartment.

Disgruntled, you glared at your classmate, Damian -fucking- Wayne. You were both on the goodwill committee this year, first years in college, and you needed to work together for the fundraiser this semester. However, you were having issues seeing eye to eye. The committee had a budget, and while that budget was substantial, you were frugal by default and Damian was decidedly, not.

"It's a seafood buffet, were going with it." Glaring down at you from blue orbs you snorted very unladylike and glared right back.

"Damian, that's almost half the budget." He only shrugged his shoulders.

"My father will easily raise our budget with another donation." You grabbed your wadded-up hoodie at your hip and shoved it into your face, screaming into the fabric. Anything to release this anger you were starting to gain so you wouldn't hit the guy.

"Dude! That's not how life works, are you going to rely on your dad's money for the rest of your existence?" You couldn't take it anymore; his haughty attitude drove you nuts. He had no care for how expensive anything was, brat probably didn't even do his own fucking homework or essays. "You know what, I don't care, I'll do the entire thing myself." You started to pick up your books and notes, shoving them in the same worn backpack you've had since middle school.

He didn't even blink as you stood, pulling on your ratty hoodie that was now soft and warm. His dark eyebrows only rose a fraction as you shoulder your pack and turned to leave. You were livid, nearly shaking with how much he angered you. Damian was a good guy, somewhere under there, you just knew it but... Dammit, did he even realize the amount of poverty around the city? Did he even care?

"You know... The clothes you're wearing today probably cost more than my entire months' worth of rent and loans..." You shook your head and glanced back over at him. "Reality check Damian, your part of the one percent of Americans so rich they don't even know how much money they have. This entire project is to work with the budget to gain more support and donations, so we can help people who don't have more than a single shirt. Wake up..." You turned and left the common room of the dorms, unable to look at him anymore.

The next morning you woke to a slim envelope pushed under your door. Inside was a well thought out budget plan, exactly like you had wanted to do, and all the arrangements already made for the following fundraiser you two were in charge. Scoffing you tossed the folder to the floor and went about your day. Ignoring what Damian had thrown together, angry because if he'd just been level headed and down to earth yesterday, then it would have already been done. The folder just made you angrier, where did he get off?

When you walked into your lecture hall for an economics class, you walked right up to Damian, slapped the folder down at his neatly stacked pile of books, then promptly stomped up the steps and took a seat at the very top row and far away from the ass. You ignored him throughout the two-hour class, diligently taking notes. When the end of class came you looked up, suddenly startled to find him standing on the next step down. And even that step down didn't take away from his height. The hall was empty save for you both, and you wondered how the hell he moved so quick and silently.

"What do you want Damian?" You tried not to sound short with him, because you were raised to be polite and he hadn't come right out and called you names, it was just his attitude that got on your nerves. You didn't like the rich snobs that filled this city.

"I apologize for being inconsiderate of the project, and not considering our diverse situations, it will not happen again." And he turned, walked down the steps with a fluidity of a model and left the hall. So shocked by his words you heavily sat back into your chair and blinked a few times at the closed door. So long you sat there, that the motion sense lights in the room triggered and you were surrounded by simply glowing emergency lights on the walls and a few along the isles.

"Huh..." You stood, the lights flicking back on to full brightness and left the lecture hall. Wondering if you got to the stoic youngest Wayne, because that was most definitely an apology. Damian Wayne did not apologize. But maybe, you'd made some sort of impression.


End file.
